


keeper

by SpiritOfFox



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Elvhen Pantheon, Fear and Deceit, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4250673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritOfFox/pseuds/SpiritOfFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes children are too curious for their own good and elvhen children are not exempt of that rule.<br/>OR<br/>An elvhen child wanders away from his clan and his life is changed forever after an encounter in a forgotten place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keeper

**Author's Note:**

> Could be read as any elf OC, but this actually would be an AU for Lavellan. Male Lavellan bc I'm playing one atm.  
> This idea was probably already done actually.
> 
> I haven't written anything like this in years, so if anybody ever reads this (which I kinda don't think will happen a lot), I hope you enjoy this blurb, which was only written bc it WOULDN'T LEAVE ME ALONE.
> 
> Please forgive me for my English, it's not my 1st language and I didn't have a beta, sorry.

**Prologue**

It happened when he was 4 years old. 

He wasn’t any less or more rambunctious than any other 4 year old child be it one of the elvhen or one of the shemlen. With his fellow children in the clan, he ran around chasing animals, playing games, he fell down and then he stood up. Sometimes he got hit and sometimes he bled a little. Sometimes he ran back to his Mother or to the Keeper, whoever was closer and sometimes he hid behind the skirts of various elves, just like any other children in the clan. 

He was maybe a bit more curious than it was healthy for an elvhen child with the occasional shemlen stumbling upon their aravels or with living in deep forests filled with predators and ruins. 

He was only 4 years old. He might have always been a bit more curious then his age mates, yet there were a lot of things that the clan didn’t tell him at his age. He wasn’t really told about the wandering shemlen who took away their pretty children, the armoured men who came and forced away their Keeper and their Gifted, the bandits who sometimes fell on their clan and tried to rob them. He wasn’t told about the terrible battles that happened in the forest they were staying in at the moment and he wasn’t told about the weakened Veil surrounding them. 

He didn’t know a lot of things. 

And it only took a second of inattentiveness of their daily keeper for him to slip away from the clearing to chase after a pretty bird. 

He was only 4 years old when it happened. 

He was 4 years old and he was marked for life and he was fortunate that he didn’t die or worse that day. 

Well, truth to be told, it really… _really_ wasn’t luck. 

**1 st**

They were playing in a clearing under the watchful eyes of Hahren’s helper of the day, when he saw them. He stopped moving and dropped the ball from his hands, with his eyes looking at the pair of birds standing on a rock and preening each other. 

He didn’t even notice as one of his playmates grabbed the ball and started running away with it, he was so focused on the two birds with their glossy black plumage as they hopped from place to place trying to rearrange a feather here and there. He took a hesitant step toward the birds, but they didn’t move from their spot as they continued what they were doing. 

He looked around for a second for their keeper to check whether he still saw him because he still remembered some of what Hahren said as he lulled them to sleep during their afternoon nap with a tale about the gods, about the forest or about the animals. He loved hearing those tales, but he was still young and tended to fall asleep after a while, so he missed their end a lot of times and he was ready to become older so he could stay awake longer, to run farther and to be stronger. He still had a lot of time before he was taught how to start handling a bow, and he loved watching his father practice or teach the older children or handle his tools as he carved. He loved watching his mother coming back from a hunt with a large pelt hanging from her shoulder as she helped the other hunters bring in the animal she caught, and she was the most beautiful when she was smiling as he ran up to her and she never failed to lift him up and twirl him after they left the carcass for those who handled the cooking that day. 

His Mother always listened to him chattering about the things they did that day, the animals he saw or the tales Hahren told them while they were searching the camp for his Father (and her bonded) to tell him that both of them were alright. Also to tell him what happened so far with them. They continued this till the call to lunch sounded, when they went to eat and after that they were off to do their work again. His Mother went to patrol with the hunters, his Father took him back to the Hahren for their nap time. His Father always went back to work, to create things for their Crafter while he remained in the aravel and listened to the story the Hahren weaved. 

After they were woken they were walked to the clearing to run around and to play while the Hahren taught the older children their lore. 

Sometimes he wanted to be in there to listen to those tales, but usually he like being outside in the sunshine where there were a lots of green plants and trees and they even saw some animals, especially if they weren’t spooked by the young children’s loud voices. 

That’s how they saw wild halla, rams, wolves and even a bear once! 

But never birds. Birds were always quick at flying away, only leaving behind feathers and the memory of the sounds of wings flapping or the sight of a quickly disappearing small form. 

So he was a bit surprised and lot eager to get as close to those two as he can get so he could look at them and see how they flew so he could tell his Mother and Father when he saw them before dinner and wouldn’t that be marvellous and they would surely like to hear about it. 

He crept closer trying not to make any loud noises and the fuss of his friends behind him fell away to silence and he came closer and closer… and closer. 

He was standing a few meters away from the two of them when the birds stopped their preening and both turned their heads towards him in an eerily synchronized move. He froze in his next step and with wide eyes stared at them, not breathing so he wouldn’t spook them away. The birds stared at him before going back to preening and he let out a small breath as they continued to ignore him in the next minute. He collected all of his bravery once again and started moving towards them with small, silent steps. 

Soon, he was standing a few feet before them and he was still amazed that the birds haven’t flown away. One of the birds stopped what it was doing and started to lightly hop from one foot to the next like it was dancing around to an invisible tune and the elvhen child was mesmerized. The bird looked at him with intelligent black eyes and the other one also stopped preening its feathers to look at the child before them. 

He raised a hesitant hand and when it garnered no other interest than the slight tilting of a small black feathered head he slowly put it before the birds. They looked at each other, rapid communication happening between them in the form of body language, before one of them hopped on the out-scratched hand. The child just stood there with his mouth wide open as the bird continued to inspect him. The other bird still standing on the stone laid down. Minutes have passed and nothing much changed. 

The child was still standing there with a bird now on his shoulder, his mouth shut now, as he slowly petted the back of the other one on the stone. 

Then the children’s noise racketed and the bird on his shoulder flew away with a piercing cry, the one on the stone standing up and hopping down into the moss on the ground then hopping away there. 

The child just remained in his place the other children and their keeper still in sight and he… The bird on the ground looked back at him and remained still for a few moments as if daring him to follow him. 

The child didn’t hesitate anymore and followed the birds deeper into the forest, his mind free of every cautionary tale he heard during his short life. 

**2 nd**

He walked deeper into the forest. At one point the hopping bird stopped and jumped on his small shoulder, while the other continued to fly before them, leading them on unused paths and steered them away from danger. 

If he was a bit older he might have noticed that the birds were too intelligent for mere animals, too intent on luring him away from his clan, but in his few years of life he heard a lot of stories about clever animals and haven’t learnt yet, that those stories weren’t true to reality but rather fables to teach children morality or some wisdom about living and life. 

So he heard the stories about the fox and his family and he learnt about kinship. He heard the stories about the halla and learnt about love and duty. He heard all these stories with the animal heroes and in his innocence, in his naivety he never stopped to think that they couldn’t be real. 

Teaching tales were fables, but to a 4 year old child they were also stories about how real life works. 

So it wasn’t surprising to him to see those two birds who welcomed him and his touch and he wasn’t suspicious. He had never been suspicious in his life and so far he never actually needed to be. 

He didn’t know how long he had been walking. 

Gone were the red sails of the aravels in his sight, the clans daily bustling in his ears and he couldn’t smell the cooking dinner in the air he was breathing. Neither of those actually registered to him as really alarming. 

He was a curious child and the route the birds were taking him showed him a lot of new things he had never seen. Animals between the trees, rocks on the ground and growing out from the ground, plants and trees and bright flowers. It wasn’t dark, the green leaves shined with some kind of light. It was somewhat warm and there was a cool breeze in the air which freshened him up. 

He was led to a small overgrown hole in the ground. Crawling plants and vines were covering most of the ground and the flying bird sat on a sturdy branch while the child looked into the hole. It was actually a tunnel and it was packed with brown earth and there were roots in the walls and there were softly glowing moss here and there. The child climbed in when the bird on his shoulder hopped down to the ground and started going down into the tunnels and he didn’t want to be left behind. 

So he walked and walked still following after the bird who led him to the other end of the tunnel. It was a small grove surrounded by towering stone on all sides, completely covered in flowers and trees. He could hear the sound of a small stream somewhere from his left but he didn’t investigate because the bird led him right into the middle of the grove and there stood a small something made from stone. It might have been a large block once upon a time but now it was cracked and broken in a lot of spaces and the bird flew up to the towering tree behind it. 

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know why they were there, he didn’t know what this place was. He tried to turn back but he couldn’t find the tunnel. He walked around the walls but there wasn’t anything. He couldn’t get out and he started to get scared. If he couldn’t get out he couldn’t go home and he would never see his Mother or Father again. He was also starting to get thirsty and hungry, but there wasn’t any of his clan here to give him food or water. His eyes filled with tears and he started sobbing, shouting for his Mother and his Father. When nobody appeared he tried calling his Keeper, Hahren, anybody from his clan, but nobody answered. 

The noises around him didn’t change, the stream continued to bubble away merrily, the bird still was there sitting unconcerned by the noise, still watching the child from its perch. And that was the reason why the child stopped his hysterical shouting because if a bird could look disapproving then that would be the expression he saw there. He sniffed a few times, rubbed his nose, before clambering over to where he could hear the stream bubbling. He quickly found it and cupped his hands to drink from the clear water. It tasted fine so he drank his fill, happy that at least he wasn’t thirsty anymore after his long trek. 

One of the birds swooped down from above and herded him back to the tree. He tried to go back to the stream several times but every time he was stopped by a bird who screeched at him whenever he took a step away from the stone. His eyes filled with tears once again and he was readying himself to start screaming and crying again when something in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. 

The tree was actually hollowed out. 

**3 rd**

The tree he was standing before had a hollowed out centre and it still seemed completely healthy with shining leaves and strong branches. There was some vine all over the hole somewhat covering it from the elements, but the size of it was large enough that an adult elf could comfortably walk into the massive tree. 

The child bit his lip and thought about it for a minute, but in the end took a few hesitant steps to peer into the darkness. The entrance he came into the grove disappeared, so it might be possible that there was another exit? Maybe in the tree? 

He was already lost and nobody came for him. 

What could go possibly more wrong? 

And he was still so very very curious. 

The birds were completely still on the branches and it seemed like the stream went silent and the breeze stopped. 

He stepped inside. 

Then he started walking. 

After a while stairs appeared in his path and he took them down and down, deeper into the ground. Several times he stopped and almost turned back but there was always that softly glowing green light before him, beckoning him further. 

More and more green fire lit up as he walked and soon the daylight coming from his back completely disappeared. 

Then he found himself in a cave with those strange torches and water running everywhere. With strange mushrooms and plants… 

And in the middle of the whole cavern with a kneeling statue. 

The moment his eyes looked upon the statue he was mesmerized completely. He didn’t even notice closing the distance, he was focused only on trying to peer under the figure’s hood wanting to see its face. 

The kneeling statue still towered over his slight form and as he peered under the hood it seemed like it grew even larger and covered the child entirely from the torchlight. Elven eyes still could see more in the dark than some of the other races so the child didn’t really note that it got darker. 

His large eyes roved over the carved face, trying to remember the long aristocratic nose, the strong jawline, the thin mouth, the high cheekbones, the way the stone looked like it was actual skin over actual flesh and bones. 

It wasn’t enough. 

His small hand cupped the stone face and his fingers mapped out its features. He didn’t even notice closing his eyes, as his fingers nimbly flew over forehead, cheekbones and mouth. 

With a small sigh he once again looked into the statue’s face, staring right into its glowing eyes. 

The eyes blinked and he was snared. 

_“Well, well. What do we have here?”_

**4 th**

He had been sleeping in the dark for eons now, catching snatches of the world from fleeting whispers. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to leave this miserable half-existence. 

He needed to leave before he went completely mad closed inside his mind in this eternal, never-ending, unchanging void. 

He had to leave. 

(He had to leave. He needed to.) 

And then after a few seconds or ages, there was a small spark growing brighter and brighter and coming closer and it was so warm this light and it was young and scared and so hungry and thirsty and tired, but still so full of curiosity and he could see everything (and he still saw nothing) and he fell fast and strong. 

He reached out to that light and beckoned it, his magic growing stronger (and he could feel more and more) and the light was so close and it was pure and the warmth of it was making him want to bask in it like he was some kind of large animal (feline, he was thinking about felines if he was remembering correctly). 

It was getting closer, he could feel now that it was dying (starvation and exhaustion quickening its death) and he could feel his cold body slowly changing (never completely, just enough, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t really his body, never, his body was gone, has been gone for a long time now) and he moved, he opened his eyes and his lips and (after eons, years, hours, minutes, seconds of silence) he spoke. 

_“Well, well. What do we have here?”_

**Epilogue**

The child woke up in the shadow of the kneeling statue. 

He didn’t really remember what happened to him. 

Maybe he should be scared by that, but he wasn’t. Not anymore. Not after the first few seconds, after the tentative touch on his mind by the far older and stronger presence, who despite being superior in lots of ways to him never tried to hurt him or overpower him. 

There was no anger toward him, no irrational jealousy, no darkness threatening to choke him into oblivion, to take over his body, to possess him. 

Just curiosity, hope and so much joy. 

He walked through the waterfall and a great bear plodded up to him. 

The elvhen child rode away on the large beast, over him were two ravens circling in the air scouting ahead and inside him an ancient presence slumbering. 

**Author's Note:**

> So yep.  
> I think they wouldn't work like Mythal and Flemeth, bc Lavellan is a baby at this point and they would probably mash up eventually? Not sure. 
> 
> When I made my last Inquisitor, I managed to name him Dirthara and accidentally choose Dirthamen's vallaslin at the same time (Mythal's the only one I recognized at this point). Then while I read after vallaslin meaning's I realized what I did and then some time later bam came this bunny.
> 
> Might be continuation in drabble style? Dunno. We'll see.  
> (Actually, every time I say something like that years pass without anything so maybe I should just shut my mouth.)


End file.
